When I tell people I wrote my dissertation on Leviticus, I get a fairly predictable response. Most people raise an eyebrow in disbelief. (“That’s too bad. She seemed so normal when I first met her.”) This is usually followed by a joke about fad diets or finding a cure for insomnia. I’ll never forget the preacher who encouraged his congregation to make a New Year’s resolution to read the Bible every day, cautioning them to start in the New Testament. He told them, “I cannot count the number of people who read faithfully through Genesis and Exodus, only to drop dead at Leviticus.” There’s no doubt about it, Leviticus is the ugly stepsister of the Old Testament.

I get it. For the majority of Christians, Leviticus is outdated, boring, or both. We like the storyline in Genesis and Exodus. That’s exciting and engaging. God creates the world, chooses a specific group of people, and saves them from the tyranny of Egypt. But once God’s people are camped at Mount Sinai and the Tabernacle has been set up we want to skip to the good stuff. Who needs all those sacrifices? Why should we care about rashes or mildew or all that stuff about blood? Most people think Leviticus is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. It might help you win a game of Bible trivia, but that’s really all it’s good for.

Unfortunately, trivializing Leviticus means we miss its message. Leviticus is the third book in the five-book collection we call the Pentateuch, which is just a fancy word meaning “five books.” That puts Leviticus smack-dab in the middle of the Torah. It is literally central to the covenant God established with Israel. As Christians, we identify ourselves as the new Israel. We participate in that same covenant on the basis of Christ’s sacrifice. More than a boring list of “do”s and “don’t”s, the covenant is foundational to maintaining an ongoing relationship with the God who created us, chose us, and saved us from the tyranny of sin. Instead of ignoring or dismissing Leviticus, what if we paid attention to its covenant principles? What can we learn by leaning into Leviticus?

First, worship matters. Leviticus starts and ends with worship. The very title of the book references the Levites, the tribe charged with encouraging every member of God’s people to praise him. While some legislations are specifically aimed at the priests, the majority of instructions include everyone in worship. Worshipers bring sacrifices to honor God’s provision. Purity legislation determines who can come into God’s presence in worship. The Day of Atonement and other festivals set aside special worship times throughout the year. Tithes and vows provide regular opportunities for worshipers to tell the whole community about God’s faithfulness. While the particulars and practices may have shifted slightly in our modern times, worship is still vital to covenant relationship. We are a worshiping people. God deserves our praise. And there’s a place for everyone in worship. Leviticus teaches us about the primacy of worship.

Beyond worship, Leviticus affects God’s people in everyday living. The overarching theme of Leviticus is holiness. To be sure, holiness is first and foremost a characteristic of God. Only God is completely holy. But God’s people are called to reflect that holiness in the way they live. Every decision we make, from the food we eat to how we structure our time, provides an opportunity to show a watching world who God is and what relationship with God looks like. Actions speak louder than words. Leviticus structures holiness into every aspect of life, words and actions alike. The categories and situations it describes may not be exactly what we struggle with today, but God’s holiness is still foundational to covenant relationship. The world is still watching. We still have decisions to make. And Leviticus can teach us how to pursue holiness in all of life.

I don’t think Leviticus will suddenly become everyone’s favorite book. That’s okay. But maybe by leaning into Leviticus we can remove some of the stigma around this interesting, encouraging book. Maybe screen doors on submarines have some use after all.